


Next Move

by frogfarm



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Memorials, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 14:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16286207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: Johnny's not trying to be the better man. Just a better man.Post-1x10, "Mercy".





	Next Move

"So really in your case, I gotta say the extended warranty -- it's a toss-up."

"Really?" The other man looked a little skeptical, and Daniel gave him a reassuring nod.

"Even if it was me or my family, I could honestly go either way. I mean, considering those long trips you're talking about -- excuse me?"

"Hey, Dan. Got a minute?"

Amanda looked stunning as always in her impeccable business not-so-casual, her lovely face composed as ever and only mildly concerned. On the other hand, the fact that she wasn't calling him Danny in front of clients meant she was trying to be tactful.

"Take your time and look it over." He nodded to the client as he made his way from behind the desk. Amanda remained silent until they were outside the office.

"Lemme guess." Daniel did his best not to sound negative. It wasn't very good.

"It's him." Amanda's confirmation was accompanied by a quick glance down the hall. "But he wants something very simple, and he's not here to make trouble."

"He tell you that?" Daniel made it casual rather than an interrogation. "Or is that intuition talking?" 

"His words." Amanda gave his hand a quick squeeze. "Go easy, okay? I'll take care of your guy in there."

"Right." His distracted nod aside, Daniel realizes he's allowed himself to be suckered once again. Likely, that means it's for the best.

The lobby is relatively deserted for a Friday, and Johnny Lawrence stands out like a thumb wearing a flourescent windbreaker. It's the first thing Daniel's seen him in that doesn't look like it came with him straight out of the eighties. In fact, it looks brand new.

"What's the deal?" Daniel motions vaguely with one hand.

A flicker of distaste ripples across the grizzled features of his erstwhile adversary.

"My star pupil is convinced I need to wear this after dark." A grimace lifts the corner of Johnny's lip. "For safety."

"Really?" Daniel succeeds in not smiling. "Well -- good on your star pupil."

Johnny stands up straighter, looking him in the eye. "Can I have another bonsai?"

"Uh --" The question throws him for a second, at least a dozen different ways, before the obvious finally occurs. "What ha--"

"I threw it away."

Daniel nods at the simple statement of fact, devoid of rancor. "Are you gonna throw this one away?"

"No." And Daniel could swear that Johnny looks like he's the one trying not to smile. "I'm gonna give it away."

"Heh." Daniel gives in to his own urge to smile. It feels good. "Sure."  


* * *

  
"Hey, I'm not supposed to wait around --"

"It's fine. Go." 

Johnny shielded his face from the dust as the Uber hightailed it out of there, catching the dirt shoulder before veering back into the lane and off down the road. Looking down at his precious cargo, he half-expected to see a shriveled, hollowed-out husk. It was a little like the first time he held Robby in his arms: Full of love, and joy, and complete and utter terror.

He straightened his posture, taking a quick look around. The headstone was easy to spot; meticulously maintained, an immaculate bonsai already in place along with a fresh bouquet of tasteful, not too expensive looking flowers. Johnny slowly approached, with more than a little trepidation in his heart.

"Hey there." He stopped at what seemed like a respectful distance. "So I got you something, even though it looks like you already got one. Because I never said thanks. You know, for saving me. Well -- saving my life."

He wasn't expecting a reply. Still, he gave it a few moments before kneeling and placing the little tree beside its tiny twin. Resisting the urge to fuss with it further, he clambered back to his feet.

"So there. Anyway, I -- I said it."

Not a bad place they got the old man, he thought to himself. Lots of trees; nice view, and then the thought of Robby standing at his graveside nearly tore his guts out. 

"I should --" He broke off, struggling for words.

"I should have gone to you. I know. Guess you were too busy with Daniel-san." An echo of the old resentment surfaced in his chuckle. "But still...you could have come to me."

Johnny's hand came to rest on Mr. Miyagi's tombstone, as he shook his head with a heavy sigh.

"Maybe I wouldn't have told you to piss off."  


* * *

  
He's back at the dojo, resisting beer and compromising with yogurt and beef jerky, when the bell over the front door gives its customary jingle.

"Yoga's not til five." Johnny doesn't look up from his meal, but the sound of a hesitantly cleared female throat is a red flag.

"Mister Lawrence?"

He doesn't need to raise his head to recognize that voice. Johnny swallows, weighing his options.

"I know my dad replaced your car, but...I had a talk with my mom, and -- even though I wasn't the one driving...I want to pay for the damage we caused." Some tiny hitch in Sam's voice is there and gone, weirdly out of proportion to the incident. "Because I really am sorry."

"I've got slaves. I call them students." He can't help an open chuckle at her dismayed frown, and he's mulling it over when a thought occurs.

"Can you show me how to get on Facebook?"  


* * *

  
The process is slightly more painful than originally anticipated, but it's not long after Johnny finds himself staring at the same page he saw on Daniel's phone in that dingy bar. Samantha has wisely buggered off home, with the assurance that her assistance will continue to be available should he require it. He'd seen, though; when she read the name _Ali Mills Schwarber_ and her eyebrows did that little risey thing like chicks do when they think they've figured something out about you.

His finger twitches. Onscreen, the cursor dances in a sympathetic jitterbug over the button

SEND FRIEND REQUEST

At the last second, he chickens out -- changes tactics -- and clicks "Message". Having to come up with a Subject nearly does him in right there, but somehow he gets past that and he's in the middle of typing, stuck on yet another word choice, when Miguel walks into his office.

"Hey, Sensei? Are you still mad at me --"

"I'm not mad at you." Thank God Samantha left already. Last thing he needs is more teen drama. "More like myself."

"I --" Miguel stops, frustrated.

"Look, kid -- I know. You thought I was pissed at you because I made Aisha my number two."

Miguel's face wrinkles up like a prune. "That's a really bad title."

Johnny coughs. "Yeah, well -- there's no such thing as Assistant Sensei."

"Actually, there's Sempai? I know, 'cause I read manga and -- sorry Sensei."

"Good." Johnny marshals his thoughts, wrestling them into some notion of order. "Now you're the expert on all this cyber crap. How the hell does a guy get in touch with his ex without coming off like a skeevy old stalker?" 

"Oh, holy crap!" Miguel leans over and looks at the laptop. "That is awesome, are you -- sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean --"

"Yeah, private shit. I just don't want her calling the FBI on me, or whatever."

Miguel nods, looking more serious as Johnny continues.

"She's happily married -- looks that way -- and I don't wanna cause any trouble. Just let her know...it's all good," he finishes, somewhat lamely.

"Okay, you want to start with the disclaimer right up front. But don't spend forever on it. More than two sentences, you're into the creep zone." Miguel runs both hands through his hair as he paces back and forth in the cramped, tiny office. "Same with any apologies, keep those to a minimum. Don't want to sound like you're checking off a list."

Johnny peers at him, wondering if this is skepticism or suspicion. "Now that I think about it -- if you never had a girlfriend, how come you know all this?"

"I could be wrong." Miguel shrugs. "Just seems like...common sense."

"Yeah, well -- common sense and women don't always mix. And I'm not just saying they can be crazy, so don't look at me like that." Johnny wrestles his brain, once more cursing his lack of wordsmithing skills. "I mean you can't always use common sense when you're dealing with them. Sometimes -- you gotta go with your gut."

"I got you, Sensei." But there's a pain in Miguel's eyes, enough to send Johnny down another death spiral of reflection. Finally he looks up at his pupil, standing expectant.

"Do you think I'm an asshole?"

Miguel looks appropriately taken aback, and Johnny sighs. "Let me rephrase that. Do you think I'm a cruel person?"

Now Miguel looks positively torn, fighting the urge to stare at the floor. "Some people...might use that word."

Johnny doesn't relent. "Would you?"

Miguel searches his face, unsure, before finally shaking his head. "No."

Johnny can feel his fingers itching for a cold one. "Why not?" 

Miguel doesn't hesitate this time.

"Because you always had a reason. For everything you did. You were always trying..." A near sense of wonder, at the realization. "To make us better."

Johnny leans back and stares at the ceiling tile, feeling all the weight of his every year.

"Sensei?" Miguel's back to sounding timid. "Are you okay?" 

Johnny shakes his head, sitting up and looking Miguel square in the eye.

"Every time you're confused by something I tell you. Every time you have any doubt about the path you're on -- I want you to remember this conversation. Got that?"

"Yes, Sensei." Miguel still looks confused as well as inspired, and Johnny takes both these feelings to heart.

He has to hope it's enough.  


* * *

  
Danny knocks off early, heading home and going straight to the dojo to run through kata. It takes a while to clear his mind, because he can't stop thinking about the new dojo. Or rather, the old one they're fixing up. Which is where he ends up after, testing each of the abandoned automobiles with jumper cables until he finds one that turns over. Amazingly, it's the very same one he spent untold hours waxing on and off.

A few hours later, the Nash is roadworthy, if not street legal. Regardless, he takes even greater pleasure in peeling out of the junkyard before driving at a somewhat more sedate pace out of town, past the sunset, into the countryside. His inability to finagle the top into coming down hardly matters with all the windows down, a fresh night breeze off the ocean keeping him alert.

He parks the car and makes the walk to the headstone by memory, not even needing the meager moonlight to illuminate his path. Lowering himself to a comfortably seated position, he reaches out, only to be surprised for the second time that day.

"Huh." He shakes his head, taking in the pair of bonsai, one slightly less ragged. A smile crosses his lips. "Okay, Johnny."

Pulling the clippers from his pocket, Daniel surveys the task before him. 

"Let's get to work."


End file.
